


memories of the father

by mosaicos



Series: matsuoka [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicos/pseuds/mosaicos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Big grin and sharp, red eyes—Matsuoka Tora could hold his breath for two minutes and ten seconds underwater, and his strong swim had won his swim team first place in the Spring relay. That was two weeks ago; he was still unable to shut up about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> an attempt at a collection of short pieces of writing about the matsuoka family, focusing primarily on the matsuoka father figure. as prompts are filled the timelines might be a little messed up, so don't consider chapters immediate from one another. very creative names to follow wink** i promise it won't be very upsetting.

First came the excited shout—then the splash, and the whole world suspended itself in clogged-up ears and undulating rays of sunshine against the sand and the scattered reefs. Everything floated, speed turned down half its normal capacity; a lazy underworld of colours and masses bulked in perfect harmony with the distinct blue surrounding it all like a heavy blanket.

In this part of the world, time seemed to stop, enveloped in nothing but the whim of the currents above.

He loved it here.

Through the dull and slow haze of the water he soared, streaming through without hitch, bubbles of air trailing behind his kicking feet and from the voracious, closed smile on his face.

He spun and dove, further down, until his hand curled into a fist on the white sand. The disruption caused an explosion—tendrils of white curled around his arm in a weak fit, deterring nothing. As the blue restored its clarity, the forceful hand drags up criss-cross lines of black; the other joins, reaching another nearby spot. Down becomes up, and with a straight back his feet crumble the sand beneath him—and he pulls, now kicking off, towards the surface.

"Tora!"

It's the first thing he hears when he crashes out of the water, feet still kicking to keep himself afloat.

"Good, bring the net here!"

The fishing boat wasn't much of one but, in his eyes, an ancient canoe that would get splinters on his toes and palms. It belonged to one of the fishermen by the harbour who promised him the opportunity to dive whenever he went further out to check on his fishing nets left overnight.

"—two, three, that’s six—" the boy swam around the canoe with the sort of lethargy acquired only from being familiar with the water. "Ah, seven lobsters! And a snapper. C’mon now, off you go, back in."

No need for fish when the fisherman only wanted the crustaceans. Tora kicks his feet and spun underwater for a moment longer just as the snapper smacks against the water and starts spinning, before smoothly swimming away, back to its day.

Soon enough the fisherman was hauling him up and onto the boat, marking the end of their two-hour trip at sea.

Big grin and sharp, red eyes—Matsuoka Tora could hold his breath for two minutes and ten seconds underwater, and his strong swim had won his swim team first place in the Spring relay. That was two weeks ago; he was still unable to shut up about it. Not even the heavy weight of the lobster-filled bucket as the boy lifted it up onto the dock and carried it further into port deterred his proud enterprise. All this between puffs for air and a reddening face.

Tora had a grand dream. A dream of gold and water curling submissive around him, speeding through defeated lap records, and the agonizingly loud cheer of the crowd.

He was going to become an Olympic swimmer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting in his room, facing his old school notebooks, he daydreams about what it would be like to win at the Olympics.

Tora's family isn't wealthy. They lack many things, though food is never scarce. He works hard at school, he helps around the house, he earns his free time, he pushes out smiles even when they refuse to form. The adults are careful not to say too much in front of him, being young as twelve, and in all fairness Tora doesn't bother in listening in on their conversations.

The serious glances passed along at the dinner table—though never at him—always signal a discussion coming up. He never knows what it is next. It could be about money, work, the car broken down, having to sell some other artefact from the attic, the house needing new reinforcements at the base. All he knows is that once he's done with his meal he should return to his room and obediently leave the adults be for the night.

His mind blazes through these scenarios. He may be twelve but he is, in the end, not just about smiles. Sitting in his room, facing his old school notebooks, he daydreams about what it would be like to win at the Olympics. The money he would get—the message he would instil in others about never giving up, of following their dreams.

Through bleary, tearful eyes Tora starts taking his notebooks from last year in hand, and rips out the used pages in a precise, smooth, coordinated stream of motions.

He's not upset. He's not destroying things without reason.

The now-thin notebooks will serve him well during the first semester of his first year in middle school. Papers are kept organised and labelled inside a shoe box, later tucked under his table.

Tora's family isn't wealthy. They lack many things, but not resourcefulness. Unfortunately, resourcefulness doesn't make having being abandoned by his parents any easier.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few girls clap, and a rousing 'oooh' fills the classroom, even a cheer for "Go, Matsuoka!" floats from the back of the class.

His uncle and aunt never had any children of their own. They often introduced Tora as the gift his mother—his uncle's sister—so gratuitously left at their doorstep when he was three.

"It makes for an interesting life story!" Tora huffily—always—scolds when he gets pitying looks. It's what he tells his classmates when he's in front of the class introducing himself.

That earns him a few nervous chuckles.

Admirably, he continues, "I'm joining the swim team, so all those who have good in their hearts should join with me!", and a couple of boys raise their heads. "We'll win the preliminaries and head to nationals—we'll make it big!" His red eyes are wide and shining brightly. Not a hint of the turmoil he felt out of breath for from the night before. "I'm going to be an Olympic swimmer!" A few girls clap, and a rousing 'oooh' fills the classroom, even a cheer for _Go, Matsuoka!_ floats from the back of the class.

Toothy grin and a quick bow, his introduction is done after the teacher decided that was enough. He skipped and hurried to his seat, receiving claps on his back and several pair of curious, admiring eyes on him.

By the end of the day, he was referred to as "Olympic Tora" by his peers.

Eight boys from his class joined the swim team.

(Five from the other homerooms joined by the end of the week.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of smiling with his mouth closed is soon dismissed; it's not natural. My teeth aren't natural!

_Hnngh..._

Tora grimaces, staring at himself in the mirror. To a bystander, he's making faces at himself when he should be brushing his teeth and getting ready for school. It's right after the summer break, and the morning assembly was in forty minutes.

He doesn't think he wants to go.

The once shortest-in-the-classroom boy had shot up some time between his 14th and 15th birthday. Muscles became defined on his arms, back, chest, and legs thanks to his near impeccable attendance to swim practice and self-imposed jogging out in the harbour (his reward was a dip in the ocean, something his aunt disapproved of). 

Not only was Tora charming in personality—a natural leader—but he was handsome of appearance. He knew that, and the dozen of written confessions he would find in his shoe locker fed his ego. He would go on dates and flirt with girls, so long as it didn't get in the way of his rigorous training. 

"I'm not going to get any more letters now..." he moans at the mirror, tugging his mouth this way and that, glancing frantically around the bathroom hoping to find a solution. "What's with these teeth?!"

The idea of smiling with his mouth closed is soon dismissed; it's not natural. _My teeth aren't natural!_

Resigned to his fate, he heads to school and spends the rest of the day talking to his classmates with a hand over his mouth, or a book covering his face, or looking down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora doesn't spill his secrets, but splits up a toothy grin their way, still in the water.

His embarrassment lasted one day.

Not even that—it lasted all the way until swimming practice: he had shaved down ten seconds flat from his previous time. A new record in the Iwatobi High Swim Club. Tora's swim was strong, his butterfly stroke in particular, and the team captain was left astonished. 

"Oi, what the hell did you do over the summer?" the third year asks, uncertain on whether to be scared or impressed at what they've just witnessed.

Tora doesn't spill his secrets, but splits up a toothy grin their way, still in the water. 

A sigh of surrender is returned. "At this rate we'll manage to get into nationals. Matsuoka, you'll share your training regime with the team. And don't shave any more time from your lap, let others have a go too!" —and, as an afterthought— "You're joining the relay team. It's official now, well done."

The excitement all but bubbles inside of Tora. His teeth sharp as a shark's gnash against his lips without his notice, though no blood is drawn, and he quips a cheer, kicking off again into his lane.

It was never counted officially, but in that run Tora had managed to push his time down by two more seconds.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kameda, the barber, is with his back to the front door, running some details on his accounting book with- with-... with the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes on.

Matsuoka Tora does not embarrass easily, if at all.

He's a guy defined by proud, charming smiles and red eyes that can only match the passion coursing through his veins. His teeth no longer cause him grief, now that he's eighteen. They're a part of him that actually makes him unique; he scares the freshmen with smiles full of teeth and it really matches his swimming, he thinks. 

His scraggy black hair is currently a mess, nest for birds, left uncut for so long that his teachers and coach have started to call his attention for it. 

It's after class, on the day off from swim practice, that he hurries through the enchanting small streets of Iwatobi, between the tucked-in houses and down several stairs (and up another few) to meet the local barber. It was a house business, and the place was always bustling with friendly faces and easy banter. Tora's come to the same place for as long as he could remember.

Today he's going to saunter in, arrogance and confidence in tow, posing a plea for his hair dilemma. 

"Yo, Kame-!" he stops short.

Kameda, the barber, is with his back to the front door, running some details on his accounting book with- with-... with the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes on.

As the girl turns on her heel when Kameda does in order to see the newcomer, Tora is not sure why his throat has gone dry suddenly, arrogance and confidence sinking right to the floor and leaving out the door, leaving him bare and absolutely self-aware.

She's tall-with eyes an aquamarine colour he would be willing to bet their depth ran infinite, and her hair is the colour of his eyes. Red, red, red coursing all the way down past her shoulders and curling just as they reach her elbows. Her lips are curiously parted, her eyes set at the sight of him. 

Like a shark, he's attracted to all that red. Unlike a shark, he doesn't find the ability to swim around it, corral it, find out what there is in it for him, attack.

He's embarrassed.

"Tora-kun! Time for a haircut, right?"

Her eyes are still on him, freezing him to the spot. His eyes are burning, staring right back.

"Ah, my bad. This is my cousin's daughter, Shinju-chan. They recently moved in the next town over and she decided to pay me a visit."

"You invited us for dinner, uncle," her gaze finally disconnects from Tora's, her light tone corrective and firm, "it's Minami Shinju." Those depths return easily to him, Tora finds, and he's already smiling at that. If he's a shark who wants nothing more but to swim in water, she's the one holding the oceans in her eyes, the red crowning her head nothing but a dusting of thrill.

Tora braves a grin, sharp teeth on the spot, and he lifts his chin up as he speaks, "Matsuoka Tora."

She seems to be smiling too, almost expectant.

"How about a date, Minami Shinju?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gets a call from an Olympic swim coach a whole week after, offering him the chance of a lifetime—to train and get polished for the next Olympic event and represent Japan. 
> 
> It's still the easiest decision he's made in his life.

He finds out he's going to be a father two days before turning twenty.

He gets a call from an Olympic swim coach a whole week after, offering him the chance of a lifetime—to train and get polished for the next Olympic event and represent Japan. 

It's still the easiest decision he's made in his life.

"Sorry, some personal things came up. I'm going to quit competitive swimming for a while," his smile is present and he's facing Shinju, his eyes not ever leaving her figure, even as she looks taken aback by the words she had not expected Tora would say when faced with his dream. "If I could, Kobayashi Hiro shows great promise. He was always at my heels when we swam together."

Hums, nods, affirmative grunts are shared afterwards throughout the phone call now quickly cut short into some apologetic message rather than a celebratory one.

When Tora returns to rest his head on Shinju's lap, his eyes are closed but his lips parted into a wide, shaky grin.

She asks "why" as if she wants to ask _is that really alright with you_ , because she knows—better than anyone else—what becoming an Olympic swimmer means to Tora; how he talked about it so often, worked all his life to achieve it, never once stopped looking forward to it. He's trembling under her gentle, caressing hand going through his dark hair. 

(He's overwhelmed.)

He's given his answer a lot of careful thought, over the past couple of days, and it terrifies him to think of everything that will come along with it. "—I have a new dream. I want to be a father—" his words flounder, but they sink with his sincerity. "—I'm going to be a father, Shin-chan," she doesn't bother to thumb away the tears forming at the corner of his eyes, but does meet him halfway with her own as she leans down to hug him just as he turns on his side to wrap his arms around her middle, his nose pressed ticklishly just under her belly button.

And Shinju just knows that he'll work day in and day out to become the best father he can be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being on friendly terms with the fishermen in town—who by now were quite old in their age—meant that he easily got a job at the harbour. He rose before sunrise and returned home just before sunset, starved for food and starved for Shinju's touch. "—and a wedding, I'm already asking around." It's been six months since he had found out he was going to be a father.

Tora needed a job, and fast. He doesn't have the time to go into higher education; there were more important things at hand. 

For one, he knew he had to prove himself to Shinju's family. They liked him, at least, but it was with skepticism that they greeted the relationship of the couple. Regardless of that, it was never disapproved of. The pregnancy outside of wedlock was—as it would be—a thorn on the family's thoughts on Tora; surprisingly, however, they appeared more supportive when the couple had expressed going through with it, marrying, and Tora's consequent retirement of his dream.

("Isn't it farfetched, Tora-kun?" one would ask, whenever he would start off about his romantic dreams of gold. "How certain are you of even getting anywhere?" was a usual favourite, thrown around across the dinner table, along with "there's surely many other boys trying out for the national team". It was usually attempted to hit gently with the addition of "not that we doubt you could make it, of course" with a reluctant "but" attached.)

"I'm going to get you a house!" Tora would exclaim excitedly, fumbling with massaging Shinju's ankles, lovingly pressing kisses to the side of her foot, and so forth. Pregnancy pains were terrible, as far as he could tell, and he never lost anything out of pampering his favourite girl. "Maybe not right now, but soon. It'll have two floors and a garden, even if I have to build it myself."

Being on friendly terms with the fishermen in town—who by now were quite old in their age—meant that he easily got a job at the harbour. He rose before sunrise and returned home just before sunset, starved for food and starved for Shinju's touch. "—and a wedding, I'm already asking around." It's been six months since he had found out he was going to be a father.

The couple didn't live together. Tora would travel to the Minami family home to see Shinju and spend time with her. Hours late into the night he would run all the way back to Iwatobi (some times hitching a ride on a motorcycle), and collapse in his bed the moment his head hit the pillow. 

As Shinju gave him a very knowing look, Tora couldn't help but laugh. "You look beautiful," he moves on to his favourite area for massage, as he very, very gently places a hand over her showing belly; his breath would always catch—to think, to just imagine that his son was growing there. In less than three months he would meet him in less than a year he would perhaps speak his first words—he could teach him how to swim pretty soon, right? "Has he been kicking a lot today?"

"Not more than usual—he's all energetic and restless," her hand joins his, and leads on in a slow, soft circular motion. "There's more kicks during the morning."

Tora sighs, content, "at least he's calm at night now, right?", to which Shinju looks at him funny, because Tora showed nothing but optimism and delight—couldn't say a thing wrong against their unborn child. He envelopes her in an embrace, into his chest, and her nose crinkles at the smell of salt and fish in his clothes and hair.

"You're set on it being a boy. It could very well be a girl, you know."

He doesn't skip a beat as he says, resolutely, "I'll love her just as much."

"You're squeezing me."

"Sorry. I love you so much."

And things were going to be alright.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm so, so sorry — I missed it, Rin —" it was almost comical, "your first birthday! I'm so terrible!" The baby cries louder, only fuelling Tora's guilt for some reason. "I'll make it up to— to— to you for the rest of my life, I promise! Dad will always be here for you when—when you call—!"

Shinju gives birth to a healthy boy on February 2nd—whilst Tora is off in a fishing expedition. To be fair, the baby wasn't due until a few more weeks.

He is not due to be back for two more days; to contact him at sea is near impossible. 

—so she has the bundle of red hair and red eyes all to herself—

As any responsible new mother would do, Shinju studies her son with strict judgement; he's rather small—but that's to be expected, being two and a half weeks earlier than anticipated—his cheeks chubby, chin hardly with a set structure ("it's probably still too early to say"), with soft, red hair like hers (and not dark and scruffy like Tora's), but the exact same eyes as his father.

—except they were extremely sleepy eyes. None of that sharpness present. 

She admires the babe's brave effort to hold onto her offered finger into a pudgy, soft grip, a thumb in his mouth giving him comfort. Shinju does note how he seemed to do this proudly, with his tired eyes staring right at hers as if daring her to coo. 

They hadn't decided on a name. Tora will forgive her for getting ahead of herself.

"Rin," she whispers. There's no squeeze to her finger or slight widening of eyes, or anything that would characterise the acceptance of the name as _the_ one name. She can see the character, though, 'dignified', ringing strong and true whenever she called out the name. "You're acceptably cute." 

He starts crying for some reason.

Rin keeps crying in the presence of his father, when Tora arrives two days later to the news that he has already been a father for forty-eight hours. As the adult holds the baby into his arms, there's already the forming sputtering of tears mixed with laughter—of course Rin is crying too. Like father like son, after all.

"I'm so, so sorry — I missed it, Rin —" it was almost comical, "your first birthday! I'm so terrible!" The baby cries louder, only fuelling Tora's guilt for some reason. "I'll make it up to— to— to you for the rest of my life, I promise! Dad will always be here for you when—when you call—!"

 _And cry right with you_ , Shinju thinks.

"—why is he still crying?!" as if it's impossible to believe that his vow of love to the child isn't working.

Shinju immediately takes Rin from Tora's arms (Tora resists at first, looking at her with an expression of insult, "I know how to carry my own child, just tell me what I'm doing wrong") and calmly explains, "he's hungry".

"Oh," he says, easily letting go, and cleaning his face.

Even as Shinju adjusts the child to feed, Tora sits on his knees close by, admiring his son. Two arms, two legs, ten toes, and ten fingers, a beautiful face and loud crying—he's _perfect_. Perfect enough to force the tears out of Tora again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this was my favourite chapter to write about......... cries grossly)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long string of days he spent away fishing had made him a timid father, even without his realising. Every time he came back from an expedition his children were a little bigger, a little taller, their hair a little longer, their smiles more defined, their strength accumulating in their fists and shoves.

The long string of days he spent away fishing had made him a timid father, even without his realising. Every time he came back from an expedition his children were a little bigger, a little taller, their hair a little longer, their smiles more defined, their strength accumulating in their fists and shoves.

The first indication he would get, upon his return, that things had yet again changed, was the consistent way how his children—his son, especially—would run and throw themselves against him, hugging Tora around the waist, or wherever it was they reached. He had to actually brace himself for it now, careful not to topple over with the force of it. The second indication would be how Rin kept changing the way he called him: daddy, dad, pa, father. 

This expedition had been a particularly long one, extending from one weekend to the next, but a change in the weather had forced them to reroute around a nearby archipelago, taking an additional four days. It had been the longest he had been away from home, and the first indication that his children (or, at least, his son) wasn't taking it well was that he refused to talk to him over the cabin radio whenever Tora managed to get through after sharing for personal calls with the rest of the crew.

"—he really won't come to the phone? Tell him we caught tons of crab today. We checked the boxes we had put by the buoys, he was nuts about it when I told him last time."

Shinju complied, and though Rin's eyes had widened in slight interest, he was still slumped on the dinner table, arms crossed, chin on top of them, expression a frown and a pout. 

"Not taking the bait, huh...?"

Tora was at a bit of a loss. His heart was heavy, but colour returned to where he was feeling rotten when his daughter got on the phone, happy squeals and conspiratorial whispers. Rin got so fed up he got up, despite his mother patting his head consolingly, and stomped glumly back to his room.

He had noticed, because Gou's voice faltered, and very honestly she said "brother left" in her cute lack of vocabulary for anything other than chunks of words. Tora calling was always a family thing, children and mother sitting at the kitchen table, waiting on their turn excitedly. 

"Ah."

When Tora does return from this particularly long expedition, he asks for some time off. Just a week, but it's three days he gets, not counting the weekend.

He reaches home, is greeted by his wife and daughter, but the lack of that first tackle once he walks through the gate by his son really marks a difference. No matter how loud Shinju calls from the bottom of the stairs, "Rin, your father is here!", in that stern voice she reserves for few occasions, there isn't an answer. 

Tora smiles a little nervously at her, but heads upstairs anyway. Being a father really was harder than he realised, and he wasn't spared from feeling overwhelmed and guilty whenever he didn't fulfil what standards he had set out for himself as one from the day Shinju told him they were to be parents.

He finds Rin, in the room he shares with his sister, squatting next to the door, in the dark. Arms are crossed over his knees and he's got a pout to show he's unhappy about something.

Light from the hallway filters through the opened door, and Tora's pretty sure he could see his son stiffen a little.

"Hey, champ." 

Not even a squeak.

He decides to sit down, cross-legged, by his son. The sound of his wife and daughter getting busy in the kitchen so they can have dinner keeps them from sitting in awkward silence.

Though timid a father as he may have become, Tora is still Tora; bold and a rascal, which is why he upsets the order of his son's hair with a heavy hand. 

"Sure missed you when I was fishing." 

A sniffle.

Tora's smile reappears, softer now, and he rubs the boy's back. Rin would talk. He wasn't good at keeping things bottled up, even at the tender age of a recent five.

"What is it?" —what had Rin called him, before he left? "Pa is here. You know I'm not going anywhere, even if I'm away a lot. You understand, right? It's my job. I have to do it. Mommy's" (it's always been "mommy") "family is having a hard time right now, so I have to look after all of us. That's what's right, isn't it?"

It almost sounded like he was making excuses, or asking his child for some answer to confirm he was doing what was just.

The boy, instead of replying right away, reached a hand out and gripped his father's sea-stained jeans, clutching tightly, and that's when cheeks turned red, and tears fell. 

Tora needed to learn not to coddle. Shinju had told him. "What is it?" He asked, instead, again.

It took a moment, but after a few loud sobs, Rin began, while Tora brushed his hair back, rubbed his back in circles, dried his cheeks to the best of his ability with his palm. "I tho—thought, papa—" oh, papa, his heart clenched, "—was back... and I, ran, and hugged..." a great big gulp of tears "someone not-papa..."

The hand that had remained firmly clutching his jeans was still there, but now Rin was scooting close to hold on to him with both hands.

What had happened, was that Shinju had taken the kids to the park. They had stayed there until a little after the sun went down, and were making their way home when the lamps started turning on. It was the weekend Tora was supposed to come back, and the kids had been upset when she told them he wouldn't be for a couple more days. A man, of similar build to Tora, was walking down the path, his front shadowed by the darkness and the lamp behind him, and Rin had let go of her hand to run to him, convinced it was his father. The momentum of the hug that Tora hadn't received upon his return was given to that stranger, who very kindly said he was, indeed, a "daddy", but his daughter and girlfriend were waiting for him by the swing set. 

Rin had been sulking ever since. 

"I forgot papa's face!" 

He wished, Tora honestly did, that he didn't have to be away at sea for so long. But he couldn't quit his job, degree-less and with his greater accomplishments being trophies and medals from swim club. Shinju didn't have a job, due to some problems in her family's side, and Tora, being the only daughter's husband, refused to leave his in-laws stranded.

"Rin, hey, remember?" he started humming, soon as the sobbing became a little more controlled, a made-up lullaby he used to tone-deaf-mutter to his son after every bath, every meal, right after waking up and before bed. He tapped his chest, and his forehead, and smiled. The result was immediate; Rin calmed down exponentially, looking up at his father—the first time since he arrived—though he still looked upset. "It was an honest mistake. You're allowed to forget about papa's face. You're still small, you'll learn to not forget. That's why I will always, always, always remember yours." 

He spoke a lot to the fish they captured, to the crabs and lobsters, to the floorboards on the ship whenever he was on cleaning duty, to the wind and the waves on his time off. He got sea legs when they tumbled back home from an expedition; he got a similar diagnosis for how he spoke. A little brutish and a little too honest.

"Sorry I was away for a long time. I'm back now—"

"—forever?"

"For a week," he would stretch it to a whole week. "Let's go camping and swimming and to the park, and let's wake up early on the weekend to play Mario." He was tired and would like to sleep in and have a relaxing time home, while his pay check was sucked dry by their financial needs. But this was more important.

—but, finally, Tora got the hug he had to brace for. He hadn't, though, and ended toppling over, his son hugging his chest. He laughed, relieved, escaping him without realising; Tora was crying alongside Rin.

"I won't forget papa's face ever, ever again!"

"Let's get pictures taken."

"Hm! With mommy and Gou-chan!" 

"Yes, with them also. But I want one with just you and me."

"Hm!"

Shinju had just gotten up the stairs, Gou hiding between her legs, and they found father and son, crashed on the floor, both with tears in their eyes. She smiled down at the knowingly, as their daughter tried to wriggle herself between father and son (except son kept pushing her away "papa and Rin time!"). Tora and Rin both cried too much, but things were looking up.

She joined the fray, sandwiching the two children between the two of them in a family hug. "Maaaa!" "Mommy!" came the distressed calls. Shinju instead zeroed on Tora and kissed him.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back."


End file.
